


Elevators

by mrhiddles



Category: Thor (2011)
Genre: F/M, The Avengers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-03
Updated: 2012-03-03
Packaged: 2017-11-01 01:21:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/350419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrhiddles/pseuds/mrhiddles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki and Jane are stuck in an elevator. He finds it's the perfect time to play around with Thor's beloved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Elevators

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing.

Just as the huge slabs of metal were about to slide shut, effectively sealing off the rest of the world from his private cubicle of victorious silence, a small feminine hand shot out and gripped the door. He frowned, already annoyed because it was not often that these human transports called ‘elevators’ were empty.

He absolutely loathed being packed in with all the mortals.

The only relief from this was that it was only the small female who accompanied her determined hand wishing entry. At least it hadn’t been ten other people. Upon realizing with a silent start, that the woman was no other than Jane Foster, the previous saving grace was wiped out.

It would not be an enjoyable ride.

She did not recognize him, of course. Not in his mortal attire, that he had to admit made him look quite good. There had only been one time she had seen him. And it had not been a lingering look either. Thor had immediately stepped in front of her and thrown him back with the awesome force that was Mjolnir. He’d been bruised for weeks.

Back then he had been dressed in his finest armor, the sharp, tall horns of his golden helm arching into the air majestically as he’d lunged his staff at Thor. The hammerfell had knocked back both his attack and himself, and that was it. Captain America, the glorified naff, had met him then and they had commenced their fight a good way off. Far from the woman known as Jane Foster.

It was decidedly the only time he could remember seeing the woman in person, and knew it was the only time she had laid eyes upon him.

So it was understandable she’d not immediately know him, looking as he was. He’d also recently trimmed his hair to where it sat just above his shoulders and looked much more tame. He was also not covered in blood and not yelling at the top of his lungs. Nor was he wielding his staff, which would have been certain to draw attention from the commonplace people buzzing around the streets.

Today he had other things to attend to. Like living. There was only so much a banished prince could account for when he was an enemy of the entire mortal race. Midgard in general. He still had to eat and sleep, and required basic amenities. Just because he’d been thrown out of Asgard, perhaps permanently this time, as Thor had so elegantly told him, did not mean he would deprive himself of the basic needs of life.

He was actually living in this building. It hosted many rooms, all of which were furnished appropriately for what this realm deemed as ‘wealthy’. This was the only place he’d stayed in twice. It was not frequented by those who were acquainted with Thor and his little playgroup. It was why he felt it was safe to stay here for a while.

But now that was no longer an option.

The last person he’d expected to enter this building, let alone come across, was Thor’s love. The last he’d known was that she studied the stars, far away in the deserts of what they had dubbed New Mexico. He remembered vaguely that he was surprised to have seen her here in the streets of New York. That for some inane reason his brother had risked her life so that she could tag along with him as they all hunted him down. Obviously she had remained in town between then and now.

It had not been a graceful few weeks at all. He felt his ribs twitch angrily just thinking of what he went through in the healing period after he’d managed to lose their trail.

He knew not why she was here and he decided he didn’t care.

He looked at the woman again. She was not looking at him. Seemed determined simply to ignore the other presence beside her. Tiny buds of plastic radiated a tune directly into her ears and she seemed to enjoy it. But she still did not regard him in the slightest. It was a building of great height, he’d chosen one of the nicest rooms to rent and it was long ride to the top.

Maybe he’d have a bit of fun.

Moving his hand in front of him and letting it fall back to his chest to adjust his tie to look as casual as possible, he allowed the elevator to cease all movement. The poor lighting flickered for a short second and he smirked at her obvious discomfort. Once she realized it had stopped moving, he saw clear and bright panic in her large brown eyes. Her lips parted confusedly and she raised her hands to dislodge the musical implements, shoved them weakly into her coat pocket.

For the first time since entering, she turned worried eyes to him. A nervous curve of her lips and he knew she was about to say something, anything, to break the silence. Because now, to her, this could be the last person she ever spoke to. He was aware that to humans, these metal contraptions were frightening places. At first, he’d even been wary.

“Um, that’s weird…I’m sure they’ll fix it.” As the seconds ticked by and he deliberately offered no sort of reassurance, content to watch her squirm, she added as if in afterthought, “Soon.”

Speaking slowly, so she wouldn’t be quick to recognize his voice, if she even did, he said, “Oh, I don’t think so.” Brown eyes went huge and he amusedly continued, pessimistic skepticism lacing every word, “I’ve heard them say the wires often snap and those inside are left to plummet to their fate.”

He could tell she was both angered and enraptured by his quiet words. She asked restlessly, “How high do you think we’re up?”

Not bothering to point out the fact she could see the floor they were on plainly atop the entrance, he answered, “Doesn’t matter. They say if the height is above three feet, then the fall would still be enough to harm the—”

Her anger finally outdid her fear, “Sorry I asked.” He caught the way her eyes darted to the floor number as she said it. The marker was in between floor fourteen and fifteen. Neither spoke after that.

Lifting the silence, he changed the tone of his voice to one of comfort, “I’m certain you are right. They will come along and surely correct the error, whatever it is.”

She met his eyes, one brow arching at his choice of words. Too familiar, he thought. Of course she would have recognized it from how Thor spoke—

Moving his hand back to his pocket he called upon his magic once more, willing the metal container to move.

Before he even lowered his hand, she pinned him with a narrow stare, “Have we met?”

She jolted forward a step when they suddenly began to move, this time lowering instead of rising. It would be better if he were to leave this building now rather than have her call her beloved on one of those silly cellular devices and decide in some headstrong thought to chase after him herself.

There was suspicion in her eyes as they started to descend. Not a grateful word to the sky above, or a small smile in his direction. Suspicion. Thoughts turning so obviously within her head he could practically see them himself.

Green held brown as they alighted upon the ground floor with a delicate chime.

The doors opened and he inclined his head once, stepping out onto the tiled floor that led directly onto the open street out front. He stood and watched her as the doors began to close.

As they stared each other down, he dipped his head forward slightly, not breaking eye contact, “Give him my regards.”

It clicked.

Jane Foster knew who he was.

The last thing she managed to get out was a stunned expression and a deathly quiet exclamation.

“Loki!”

The last she saw, he knew, was a wide and knowing smirk.


End file.
